The usual people spoke way too much. Others... not so much. The trees lining our way to and from the meeting spoke volumes.
Mid-afternoon in the gray,
The leaves appear even brighter
Reds and oranges
Even still the greens.
The meeting which often runs late,
Ends early.
No one has much to say.
I wonder if other people’s heads
Contain what I am thinking.
Maybe so.
Perhaps not.
The way home
Bright oranges and reds
On each side of the road,
Speaks volumes.
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